Thorfinn, the Blowgun, and the Christmas Tree
by gentledove2
Summary: While Hermione is out delivering Christmas presents, Thorfinn and their children get into Christmas mischief!


"Damn, damn, double damn, triple damn, hell!"

Thorfinn knew that voice and it gave him the shivers. That was the sound of his delightful wife's voice and obviously she was NOT happy! What did he do now...? More importantly, how could he get out of whatever it was that he did wrong? He didn't have long to wait.

"Oh, Thorfinn?" her voice going up an octave. That only happened when she was seriously pissed! And at him to boot!

"Yes, my lovely bride. Is there something you wanted?" Thorfinn played for time...hoping he could distract her from whatever was the subject of her wrath this time!

"Could you come in here for a minute, please, my darling husband?" was her response.

Thorfinn knew he was in deep trouble...he was only Hermione's "darling husband" for about thirty seconds before she explodes. He plastered an innocent smile on his face and then rushed to see what his wife was upset about.

Oh my heck. He had done it now! Or rather his darling rapscallions had done it for him. Tabatha and Tamsyn were bouncing on the sofa while shooting BBs at the Christmas tree, smashing one ornament after another! He was so screwed!

"Yes, my darling wife?" pretending he hadn't seen what his children were doing to Hermione's tree...the one she spent hours and hours decorating just the previous night.

"All I asked that was while I was delivering Christmas presents to the Potters and the Weasleys was for you to feed the children dinner...not let them gorge on the Christmas candies...AND to keep them "gainfully occupied". This was not what I had in mind!" his wife's arms crossed. "And WHERE did they get a blow gun plus the BBs to be put in it?"

Thorfinn thought hard and fast. "Well...remember that story you told me to read to our lovely daughters?"

"Yes..." in a tone that meant he better get to the point very fast or else!

"Well, I was reading to them that story on Africa...the ones with the pygmies and the dart guns...and our dear daughters were quite inquisitive. They wanted to know what a dart gun was...how it compared to our world...and what the pygmies used it for. I explained it used either feathered poisoned projectiles as in small arrows or poisoned pellets to bring down their prey. And then I left them in the front room while I went to put our dinner in the oven! I didn't know..." he trailed off uneasily.

"Thorfinn Oscar Rowle! These are YOUR daughters so you should have been able to read their minds and redirect them from wreaking terror on the poor Christmas tree...the one I spent hours last night fixing up just right. And where are all those ornaments? Smashed on the floor with YOUR daughters behaving like ruffians...hopped up on sugar quills! What do you have to say for yourself?" Hermione ranted.

"Accidental magic?" he offered tentatively. Yes, that was that...blame it on accidental magic. Surely Hermione would understand that one sole wizard couldn't be held accountable if his children got up to mischief...surely?

"You mean to tell me, Thorfinn, that our daughter's accidental magic fed them to the brim with sugar quills and then provided them with blowguns and BBs to attack the tree, thus negating all my hard work last night?" Hermione replied, a faint hint of a grin on her face. She was prepared to forgive him...as usual...but she was going to make him work for it a bit longer as she loved to see him try and weasel his way out of trouble. Frankly speaking, it amused her!

"Well...it could have happened that way," he tried. "After all, they are your daughters too and like their mother, they are incredibly intelligent and resourceful. How could I know that they could wish into existence some African weapon AND then massacre the poor tree with it?" he shrugged, hoping that by flattering her, he would be let off the hook...again.

"And the sugar high?" She wasn't letting him off the hook quite yet!

"Well," he said rushing his words out all together, hoping she wouldn't hear what he had to say. "They blackmailed me!"

"Did you say 'BLACKMAIL'? Thorfinn Rowle?" Hermione yelped. "Our daughters aren't even in school yet and they blackmailed you?" This was getting good.

Sheepishly, Thorfinn replied. "I was kind of nibbling at the Christmas candy and Tabatha and Tamsyn caught me with my fingers in the box of candy. They threatened to tell you if I didn't let them have some candy too. How was I supposed to know that they would pig out on the whole box, wish into existence blowpipes and BBs before trashing the Christmas tree?"

"So, you are telling me that a six foot eight, broad shouldered, hulk of a wizard was 'blackmailed' by his two little girls into giving them candy?" Hermione said with her feet tapping on the floor, arms akimbo.

"So...so I screwed up..." he finally admitted!

"Silly wizard," she said smiling at him. "That's all I wanted to hear...that you knew you muffed it!" And Hermione walked over to Thorfinn, reaching up to pull his head down, and kissing him passionately!

Predictably, their daughters went "ewww" and said "get a room".

"And as for you young ladies, your daddy is an adult...if he wants to eat candy then that's his problem. You don't get to blackmail your own father into giving you what you know you aren't allowed to have! And these Christmas ornaments that you smashed? You two are in deep doo-doo, young ladies! I've half-a-mind to take your presents back to the store to get the money to buy replacement ornaments since mine are all smashed!"

Tabatha and Tamsyn looked in horror at each other and then snapped their fingers. Immediately, the ornaments were pieced back together again and replaced back where they belonged on the tree. And at the same time, all evidence of the existence of the blowguns disappeared.

"You were saying," they cheekily replied in unison.

Hermione frowned at them. "You, young ladies are very lucky witches...since there no longer remains any evidence of the crime you committed, the Christmas presents won't be sent back to the store! Now, off to bed with you. I will come to tuck you in bed in a few minutes. I just want a brief word first with your father!" she added, waving them off in the direction of their bedroom.

"Whew," Hermione said as she collapsed on the sofa. "Can you believe the kind of wandless, wordless, so-called accidental magic that our munchkins can produce? Obviously with their flare for mischief, they are so very obviously YOUR children!"

"My children," Thorfinn replied as he flopped down beside his wife. "They may have my penchant for mischief BUT their brains and innate talent for early magic belongs solely to you, my much loved wife!"

"And we have six more years before we can send them to Hogwarts, my love? she asked.

"Yep," he replied. "Just think what they will be capable of when they get to Hogwarts..."

"I'm never going to make it," responded Hermione.

"Me, neither, the love of my life!" stated Thorfinn, shrugging his shoulders unconcernedly. "Me neither!"

***** The End *****


End file.
